Breathe Your Last
by Lopsided Nebula
Summary: You won't catch your breath. Even if James and Lily are gone they still care about their kid. He's Theirs. And they're not going anywhere anytime soon if they can help it.


Lily blinked in a sleep-deprived haze, not quite ready to open her eyes all the way but still stumbling down the hall towards the nursery, well used to the act after a whole year with Harry. He didn't like it when he was alone for too long, even when he was sleeping. Her little protector, Sirius swore that Harry was making sure everyone was safe before he settled down.

He was moaning and fussing louder than normal tonight, she noted as she leaned against the doorframe. James must have left it open when he had put Harry to bed. She winced at a particularly loud cry, he usually just needed to see someone's face to calm down again but she wasn't sure if that was going to be enough this time. She wasn't going back to bed anytime soon.

She'd never forget the gobsmacked expression on James' face the first time Harry had immediately quieted at the sight of him. She had pictures to supplement the memory tucked in their photo book just in case though.

She groped for the light switch. She couldn't find it. Giving it up as unnecessary, she stumbled over to Harry's crib. She barely noticing the flotsam covering the floor, James never remembered to clean up after himself when he and Harry played.

Harry was really kicking up a fuss now. He was fully wailing at the top of his little lungs.

She leaned over the railing, starting to worry that something was seriously wrong.

"Hush, shhh shhh, it's okay Bright Eyes, shh, mummy's here, shhh"

she ran her hand over his cheek.

He didn't stop, if anything he started crying louder.

Lily frowned "Harry, see? Mum's here, It's okay, shh shh". His cries became hiccupy little dying things as he was running out of air, forced to breathe but still visibly distraught. Was he sick? Did they need to take him to St. Mungo's? They would need to call the Order and Dumbledore for a guard... Or maybe that new nurse at Hogwarts, Pomfrey wasn't it? Dumbledore had said that she was trustworthy. She could help in the short term. But they would still need to take him to see an actual healer eventually. Merlin, she wished her Mum was here, or maybe even Tuney, they would know how to help her baby. Mum had done this before, and she was pretty sure Tuney had a baby boy of her own now.

The light from the hall was seeping in through the door and she didn't see anything that could be causing his distress. Her eyes were wide open now. Where was James? He should have woken up by now. She needed James. She wasn't prepared to take care of a sick baby on her own.

She turned her body back towards the doorway, not willing to take her eyes off Harry for longer than she had to, but not willing to deal with this without James either. She was going to drag him out of bed if she had to. She stumbled, tripping over one of Harry's toys that James had left out again. That dumb broom was going to be the death of her. She looked down, the thing could actually be of some use if she used it to shoo James out of bed, plus it would be funny.

But what her eyes landed on was not a training broom. It wasn't any of Harry's toys either.

It was an arm. An arm attached to a torso. Which was attached to the rest of the body. She saw the fanning red on the floor. Her hair. Which meant… that was her arm. Her body.

But. No. That didn't make sense. She had just been with Harry. She had touched him. He had seen her. He had heard her. Hadn't he?

She rushed back to the crib, determinedly not looking at whatever was behind her, willfully pushing back afterimages of bright green light that were trying to overwhelm her vision. She leaned as far over the edge of his crib as she could without overbalancing. Her face was scarcely a foot away from Harry's, half of his was in shadows.

He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at something beyond and to the left of her with the most wretched look she had ever seen on her baby's face.

"Harry?" He hiccuped miserably, But he didn't look up at her voice.

"Harry?" His hiccupy bursts were growing into wails again. He had caught his breath.

"Harry..." She whispered.

Lily forgot to breathe.

"No."

He couldn't hear her.

"No… He. He."

James was there. Suddenly, without warning, with his chin on her shoulder and his arms around her waist. Warm and sturdy and secure.

She didn't care.

"He can't hear me, James, Harry can't hear me"

his grip tightened.

"Why can't he hear me?"

She was yelling now, her cries blending with her son's.

Harry still didn't notice.

Some part of her knew she wouldn't like the answer. That green light was overlaid over everything again. It was so bright. She kept asking anyway.

"WHAT'S WRONG. WHAT'S HAPPENED. WHY CAN'T HE HEAR ME?"

The arms around her waist were now, pulling, tugging.

James said something in her ear but she couldn't hear it because he was pulling her away from Harry, from her baby and she kicked and hit, pulled fully off the ground trying to get to her baby but his arms just held even tighter around her waist and nothing was working and sh d.

Harry heard nothing.

She hung in James' trembling arms. "Harry." She whispered again. Her corpse inches from her dangling toes. Her husband here, but so so close to breaking. She could feel it. Tension was running through his entire body. He was a rubber band much too close to snapping. She had started crying. She had been for quite awhile now. She didn't know if the dampness on her nightshirt was her tears or his. She didn't care.

She clung tighter to her husband. This wasn't right. This wasn't right and there was nothing she could do.

The entire Potter family stayed there for much too long. All crying. All together. But at the same time, irrevocably broken.


End file.
